


Chip in the Head

by BlueBird1199



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff? I think?, Hey what if Jackie was alive?? Wouldn’t that be great??, Misty is just good friends with them both in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBird1199/pseuds/BlueBird1199
Summary: V wakes from her close call after the heist, and is confronted with a few things. She’s living on borrowed time now, she’s got the memories of some rockerboy from the 2020’s stuck in her head, and she’s apparently in love with best friend and partner.
Relationships: Female V/Jackie Welles, V/Jackie Welles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I’ve written for cyberpunk, so I’m happy with any feedback. It’s also the first time I’ve ever written for a character that regularly speaks two languages in conversation, so apologies if there’s anything out of place or incorrect there.

V feels the ringing first. A vibration in her head that travels down her skull and into her ears. It hurts like hell, but feels like a dream compared to what comes next. 

“V? You in there?” Viktor’s voice breaks through. He sounds so far away, and like he’s screaming straight into her eardrum at the same time. 

She curls onto her side and covers her ears as best she can. Her arms feel like dead weights, numb. After a second her eyes roll open.

It feels way too bright, everything is fuzzy. Her eyes burn as she squints up at Viktor.

“My… head.” She slurs. Her mouth feels slow, swollen. She smacks her lips experimentally a few times, drags her tongue over them. 

“How ya feeling?” Viktor asks after a few seconds. He sounds… nervous. Not good.

“I dunno… something’s not right Vik. I’m seeing shit.” Her voice waivers as she speaks, the fear building as her vision flickers like a shitty holo.

It takes a while, but V manages to drag it all out of him. She’s got a fifty year old parasite stuck in her brain, eating away at it. She begs Vik, almost hysterical, from fear or pain, she can’t tell. He can fix her, right? He’s the best there is. He looks so sad, she thinks he’s gonna start crying too in a second. Bottom line though, she’s dying.

She falls back against the bed, fingers raking through her hair and down her face and she tries to piece her scattered brain together. Vik goes on talking, trying to comfort her, or apologize, or something. Doesn’t matter, V’s not listening anymore. 

Dexter Deshawn, the drone, the suits, the chip, the mad dash from the hotel, the blood, the heist...

The heist. Slamming Delemaines door, screeching that she’d made it to the location, now fucking drive, get him to Viktor’s before it too late. Watching the car take Jackie-or his body, she had no goddamn clue at this point-away before she hobbled into Dexter’s hotel room alone.

Finish it. She told herself. Finish it, he’ll be okay. Finish this, and he’ll be right as rain by the time you get to Vik’s.

V sits bolt upright, yanking her hands away from her face. The sudden motion sends her tipping sideways off the cot, arms grasping pitifully at nothing. Viktor lurches, manages to grab her before she slams her newly healed skull into the cement flooring.

“Jackie? Vik, where’s Jackie?! I sent him here, after, is he..?” She's nearly babbling, her vision spinning again as she tries to get out her question. As long as she can get ‘Jackie’ and ‘where’ out though, she’s pretty sure he’ll get her meaning.

Viktor grips her shoulders, gently, but firm enough to keep her from jumping off the bed again. The old man straightens his glasses and looks her in the face, checking to make sure she’s not going into some kind of fit again before answering. Her eyes are huge, shiny and red-rimmed, the catlike pupils seem to almost vibrate with her agitation. Her cheeks are sunken, her lips pale and cracked. Seeing her awake and alert like this makes him think he should’ve led with Jackie’s status.

“He’s fine, kid. Told him to wait upstairs while I woke you up, in case you had a bad reaction to the… engram.” He explains in a clear voice, unsure how stable he should consider her right this second.

“He is?” Her voice shakes with a weird mix of desperation and hope, like she almost doesn’t believe him. The stims in her system make everything feel like they’re moving too fast now that she’s awake.

Vik cracks a smile at her. “Course he is, for the most part anyways. Still got a few stitches, but he’s past the worst of it by now.”

V leans over his shoulder, craning her neck towards the stairs. “I wanna see ‘im.”

“Figured you would. I’ll let him know you’re up and ready to head home. You just stay put.”

Vik calls him on the holo. V’s vitals are stable enough, sure, but he’s not willing to leave his possibly-manic patient alone, even for a few minutes.

“Hey Jack, she’s up. You and Misty can come on down now.”

V can’t quite make out Jackie’s response, her head’s still buzzing, but he sounds happy at least.

A few seconds later the doors swing open, and in they come.

For just a tiny, fleeting moment, V worries that this is another hallucination. That she’s still laid up on the cot, drifting in and out of the real world, and any second now they’ll flicker out of existence. But no, this is Jackie. the real and only Jackie, with his muscles and little ponytail and everything. Misty trails in behind him pushing a wheelchair, which V assumes is for her. Jackie zones in on her immediately. Without thinking, V leans out and reaches for him. Viktor starts, like he’s ready to swoop in and catch her again if necessary. It’s not. 

“There she is!” Jackie nearly howls, arms outstretched as well now. 

He seizes her in a tight bear hug, rocking her side to side. Her arms feel like noodles as she locks them around him, trying her best to squeeze just as tight as him. She feels his heavy hand rest on the back of her head, and a weird, half-choked laugh bubbles out of her. The pain, and fear, and her impending death; This, this moment right here, makes that all okay.

He pulls back first, the hand in her hair sliding down to hold her chin as he examines her face. He tilts it left, then right, then left again.

“Hmm…” He hums, scrutinizing. 

“What?” She croaks, brow knitting together. “Somethin’ wrong?”

He lets go and a grin spreads across his face. “Nah, I was just expecting you to look more gnarly, after how Vik described it.”

V snorts and raises an eyebrow at Vik. “That bad, huh?”

“At first,” Vik shrugs. “But you’re looking a helluva lot better now, all things considered.”

“Yeah, aside from the brain-eating chip I have stuck in my head.” 

Everyone goes quiet for a minute. She meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding more bitter than anything else.

“So Vik told you, huh?” Jackie asks hesitantly.

“Yep.” V chuckles humorlessly, rubbing the back of her stiff neck. “Not like he coulda hid it from me anyway. Think I’d notice sooner or later.” She rubs away the new tears brimming in her eyes, not wanting to cry anymore. Not in front of her friends.

Jackie stands beside her, concerned but with no idea how to help. His hand hovers around uselessly for a few seconds before he settles on rubbing her shoulder.

“Why don’t you get her home, Jackie?” Misty says after another silent pause, rolling the chair up to him and giving V a small, encouraging smile.

“Probably a good idea. Think the stims are starting to wear off.” V nods.

Jackie holds the chair steady for her while she slides off the cot with the help of Misty; one arm tight around her waist in case her legs give out, the other guiding V’s own heavy, clumsy hand towards the chair. She feels like a rag doll.

“See ya ‘round Viktor.” V calls over her shoulder. He’s slumped in his chair already, fiddling with the channels on his tv. But he gives her a wave, and a sad smile.

Misty sees them out. At the door, she crouches to V’s level and takes her hand, squeezing it.

“I gave Jackie some stuff that’ll help.” She says with a nod in his direction. “He can tell you about them when you wake up, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks Misty.” Her voice is going hoarse, probably from all the yelling and crying. Her head is going heavy again too; her own bed is sounding better and better every second.

Jackie wheels her to the car, has to practically pick her up to get her in the passenger seat. He buckles the seatbelt for her, makes sure she’s comfortable before stuffing the wheelchair in the back and climbing into the driver's seat. He starts the car before finally saying something to break the silence.

“So, how ya feeling Chica?” He asks carefully, eyes on the road.

“Tired.” She mumbles. “Head feels like it weighs a ton. Wanna lay back down.”

“Won’t take us long to get there.” He assures her. “Just relax, I’ll do all the hard shit this go around.”

V has no idea how much time has passed when she’s suddenly being gently shaken awake. Jackie’s at her open door, wheelchair at the ready again. He takes her hand, running his thumb over the back of it, before helping her sit up. 

She doesn’t remember much of the trip up to her apartment. It’s a lot like waking up again, just in reverse. Everything feels heavier, and slower, and farther away as the drugs leave her system. By the time the door shuts behind them, her limbs are almost dead weight again. 

Her apartment looks exactly as she’d left it. The open box of pizza on the table, her blankets in a pile at the end of her bed, all of it. She wonders idley if she’s missed her rent; if she’d wake up tomorrow with an eviction notice in her inbox. Worries that can definitely wait another day, she decides.

Jackie parks her beside the bed and plops down on it. He looks worried, she realizes.

“So, you wanna tell me how you’re really feeling now?” He prods. 

V sighs. “Told you. I’m tired.”

“Híjole V, you know that’s not what I mean.”

She turns her head; looks at the posters above her bed, the drool stain on her pillow, the lone sock stuck under her mattress. Anything but him, because the second he gets a word out of her, she knows the waterworks’ll start again.

“V, c’mon.” He tries again. “Don’t bottle yourself up and pretend everything’s okay. Talk to me, Porfa.”

“S’not gonna change anything Jackie.” She mutters, dropping her eyes to her hands folded in her lap. “This thing in my head’s gonna kill me; eat away at what makes me, me, til I wake up one morning and don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. Talking ‘bout it ain’t gonna make it any better.”

Her voice is tired, lifeless; she’s already resigned herself to what’s coming, she’s just too exhausted to be angry about it right now.

“Shit V…” Jackie says softly. “Just like that? You’re not even gonna try to fight this thing?”

“I can’t fight it Jackie.” She replies, looking up sharply, voice shaking. “Did you listen to a word Viktor said? I’m dying one way or another because of this fucking chip and there’s nothing he can do to help.”

She balls her fists up, clumsily rubbing at her burning eyes. Nope, not crying in front of him. She asserts to herself. She feels stupid, childish. 

“Okay, so maybe Vik’s right, he can’t help you. But there’s gotta be someone!” He says desperately as he leans down, trying to meet her gaze again. “Another ripperdoc or some corpo engineer or something! We just gotta find ‘em, V.”

“Right,” She scoffs. “Let’s say there is someone out there who can fix me. How the hell are we supposed to find them? And find ‘em before I’m wiped outta my own head? We got nothing, Jack.”

She sniffs and wipes the snot off her nose. Can’t he just let her be? Leave this shit for the morning when she can rage and scream all she wants, maybe take her bat to the dumpster down the hall til she wears herself out again. She’s trying to accept her death, damn it! At least then she can enjoy what little time she has left. Go joyriding through the desert again, get black out wasted, spend whatever eddies she has left to her name and live while she still can. Whatever Jackie thinks he’s doing, trying to give her hope, isn’t fucking helping.

“Okay, we got nothing.” He says with a single nod, and takes one of her limp hands in his. He shifts it back and forth, turns it palm-side up, fidgeting with it while he thinks. A few silent seconds later he pats it decidedly, clasping it in both of his. “So… we’ll find something. We’ll make a few calls, maybe see if Vik can get us in touch with that guy who dropped you off. You’re not outta commission yet, V. We got time.”

She stares at him, trying to decide if she wants to keep beating this dead horse, or let him win, at least for tonight. His expression is so soft, earnest. No jokes right now. 

“Okay.” She finally says, nodding. She notices his posture relax, his head cocks to the side a bit, a smile starts on his lips. She rolls her eyes with a smirk. “Can I go to bed now?”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot you were supposed to be getting some RnR right now.” He chuckles as he stands and stretches his back. “C’mon, vamos a meterte en.”

She tries to stand, using Jackie’s arm to hoist herself out of the wheelchair. She can’t feel shit right now, aside from the burning in her temples and the blood pounding in her ears. Don’t even have to take any steps. She tells herself. Just stand, pivot, sit back down. Her left knee buckles as soon as she puts her weight on it though, and she plops back down into the canvas seat.

“Yep, not gonna work.” She huffs, dragging her hands down her face. 

Jackie stands, arms crossed, waiting with a look of mild amusement at her struggle. She tries again, pushing up from the arm rests of the chair now. It’s even less effective at getting her upright.

“Damn V, you’re gonna pull something.” He laughs. “Here, I got you.” 

Without waiting for her response, he leans down, hooks one arm under her limp knees, the other under her arms, and hefts her up bridal-style. V, caught off guard, flings her arm around the back of his neck to hold on. 

“Jackie! What the hell?” She cries, half in surprise, half in annoyance.

“Relax, think of me as your knight in shining armor, eh? Saving the damsel from certain doom and all that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. So what exactly am I being saved from?”

“Oh, you know,” He chuckles with a shrug. “The embarrassment of flopping around like a fish on the floor after you faceplant.”

“Point taken.”

He sets her snuggly against the pillows, pulls the blanket up to her lap without her asking. V can feel the heat of his body leave her side as he pulls back from her. She rolls her head across the pillow to look up at him, wanting the warmth back.

“Better?” He asks.

“Mm hmm.” She mumbles. He brushes some of the hair out of her eyes when she puffs at it.

“I should get going soon, let you get your beauty sleep.” He says, a gentle, teasing tone at the end. 

He goes to take a step back, give her her space. Instinctively, she reaches out, grasps his wrist. 

“Wait.” She waves at him to come closer with her free hand. “C’mere.”

He crouches beside the bed, still smiling at her. The same smile he’s given her since day one, when she’d driven him across the desert with a lizard in their trunk. The smile of her best friend. If she had to give a name to the feeling, it’d probably just be ‘Home’.

“Need something before I head out?” He asks, a little confused when she just stares at him.

She’s not sure if it’s the pain, or the numbness, or the stims, or just the hell that the last however many days have been, but she realizes she doesn’t want him to leave; doesn’t want to be alone right now. So she rolls onto her side, props herself up on one elbow as best she can, and pulls him by the front of his shirt down to meet her.

He has plenty of time to stop her, if he wants. She has no coordination or strength left; just her need to keep him here driving at this point. He doesn’t stop her though. He watches, waits to see where exactly she’s taking this, til his face hovers over hers, so close he can see the telltale circuitry of the cyberware in her eyes.

She stares up at him with drooping eyelids, hesitates for just a moment. 

“Whatcha doing, V?” Jackie murmurs, his voice husky. It sounds more like an invitation than a genuine question.

That’s all the encouragement she needs. Her grip in his shirt tightens, she pulls him in to close the last couple inches between them, crushes her lips to his. 

It takes a second for him to return the kiss; maybe he wasn’t really expecting her to go for it, or that this was some stupid, stim-induced joke right up until the last possible moment. She lets him know pretty quickly that’s not the case though. His mouth moves with hers, surprised, at first, then eagerly as her eyes flutter shut. She manages to snake her arm up around the back of his neck, and when she feels his calloused palm come to rest against her cheek, she lets out a little, happy hum. 

The sound is encouraging, to say the least. V feels his other hand at the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in the shaggy hair of her neglected undercut. His thumb runs across the underside of her jaw, tickles her earlobe. The pounding in her ears is deafening, egged on by the racing of her heart. She inhales sharply as her tongue finds purchase against his, almost coughing from the sudden strain on her lungs. He smells so good, she notices. Like the leather of his jacket and something… woodsy? Spicy? The specifics don’t really matter, of course. It’s just his smell, familiar. She wants to pull him even closer; yank him into her bed and feel the weight of his body against hers, the heat of his breath in her ear, his hands on her bare skin. She can barely sit up though, so this will have to do for now.

It’s not a particularly graceful kiss. V is still higher than a kite, practically hanging off the bed at this point, and Jackie is stuck kneeling on one knee, her face still cupped in his hands. V has to pull away first, with a short, staggered breath escaping her throat.

She lets her head hang forward limply for a few seconds, eyes still shut, gripping the back of Jackie’s shirt collar to keep from falling. She feels like the room’ll start spinning if she doesn’t try to catch her breath first. This much excitement probably wasn’t a good idea considering her condition, but she doesn’t really give a shit right now.. After a moment, she lets her eyes drift open, half lidded and heavy.

“Stay.” She whispers, her stare pleading as she looks up at him.

His face is reddened a bit, his own breath a little uneven at this point. But his gaze on her is soft. There’s a quirk at the corner of his mouth, a hint of a smile at her request.

“Can’t say no to you, hermosa.” He chuckles softly and brushes her bangs out of her eyes once again.

He lays her back against the pillows and goes to kick his boots off, toss his jacket on her couch. He knows he’ll be here awhile. He scooches in beside her and lifts his arm so she can curl up against him.

Her head is foggy, heavy. She knows she shouldn't have fought so hard against sleep before, but it was worth it. Even if there’s no cure, no way to save her from the chip, she’s happy enough for now, held secure in Jackie’s arms while she drifts off the sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V deals with the more immediate repercussions of the chip, after which she clarifies a few things with Jackie and copes with her condition in the best way she knows how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to make this a two parter, hoping you enjoy it!

It’s dark out when V wakes with a start, eyes crusted in sleep and mouth dry. Her legs are tangled in the sheets, her hair sticks to her neck, drenched in sweat. She gropes mindlessly across the bed for him, but finds the space beside her empty. Her eyes open, bleary as she scans the room. 

The lights in her apartment are off. The tv hums across the room with the unintelligible chatter of some news channel. Aside from that it’s silent; she’s alone.

She checks the time. It’s half past ten, which means she’s been out for little over twenty hours. No wonder Jackie had left. She hopes there’s no other reason, that he’s not regretting their kiss. She wouldn’t blame him if he was. Not a whole lot of people would be willing to be with someone like her; living on borrowed time, that is. But she hopes that’s not the case for him, especially after how hard he fought her on the subject the night before.

She’ll give him a call in a bit; get dressed first, find something to eat. She stretches, sits up. Her neck is sore, but otherwise she feels pretty good. She’s about to stand and go searching for the remote when she sees him.

Some… guy, leaning against the wall beside her bed. Definitely not Jackie, but he’s way too familiar looking to be a stranger. His head thuds against the wall over and over again. Was he there the whole time? It’s not like V wouldn’t’ve noticed him.

“Gotta get outta here, understand?” He says without looking at her. 

She stares at him dumbly for a second, stuck between asking who the hell he is, and jumping straight to throwing him out of her apartment. She doesn’t get a chance to decide.

“And I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way,” he growls, suddenly right in her face. “You included.”

She swings instinctively at the threat, aiming for his jaw. He’s gone in a flicker of pixels, and her fist hits nothing but air. 

“What the fuck?” She grunts, pushing herself up off the bed. She spins, still a bit wobbly of her feet, looking for the intruder. “Where the fuck did you go?!”

“Need a smoke. Where’d you stash yours?” He asks in a whining tone. He’s pacing by the window, then back against the wall by the bed.

“I… don’t smoke.” She answers simply as it dawns on her that this isn’t right. This isn’t some strung out gonk that stumbled in while she was asleep. It’s the chip.

“Then go out and get me some! Jesus fucking Christ man!” The… vision? Holo? Hallucination? Barks at her. 

She stares for a second, not sure how to deal with this. It’s different from the dreams she had while she was out, worse. This thing is in her home, right in front of her eyes, while she’s awake. It’s talking to her. But it’s not in her home though, not really. It’s the chip screwing up her head, making her see shit again. That’s all.

She sets her jaw and turns to go dig through her closet and find something to wear. She’s not entertaining this ghost or A.I. Or whatever the hell it is. If it wants to be entertained so badly, it should hitch a ride in a joytoy instead.

V makes it a couple steps before he’s there again, right in her face, shoving her back. It knocks the wind out of her. Her head bounces off the back of the couch and she cries out from the shooting pain it sends through her skull.

“Who sent you? Start fucking talking!” He demands, fist held high.

She scrambles back, arms raised and ready to fight him off. To her surprise he stops too, and mimics her movements. They stare at each other, then at their own hands as it hits just how… strong this connection actually is.

“...Fucking chip.” He mutters in disgust, touching the back of his head. V’s arm follows suit involuntarily.

She feels it in her chest, her brain, in the clench of her jaw. A building rage that’s not her own. A complete hatred for the person in front of her.

“Rip the fucking thing out myself.” He says, resolute.

V feels her fingers claw at the slot, digging at the flesh around it, trying to pry it off. 

“Stop! Jesus Christ stop!”

Her vision blurs, dims. It hurts so much, her mouth opens in a choked cry of agony as she feels her finger tips dig deeper, wet with blood. It takes everything she has to get control back and rip her hand away. Like a pulling in her brain. A rubber band stretches so tight it’s going to snap any second. When she opens her eyes again she’s at her window, hands braces against it, knuckles white.

“I’ll take control.”

She can hear him, but can’t see him. Just her reflection against the window through rain streaking down it.

Her forehead slams into the glass, like she’s been hit from behind. Then again, and again, harder each time. He’s still talking, but her ears are ringing too loud to make it out. The glass cracks the tiniest bit, and her skin splits from the pressure. Her nose stings and she tastes blood, feels it dribble down her forehead and chin. She can’t stop it, can’t feel anything to grab at or punch to make him stop.

She throws herself backwards finally, hot tears dribbling down her cheeks. Gotta get outta here, she knows, and flails for the bed so she can pull herself up.

He’s there again when she looks up from wiping the blood from her eyes, pacing. 

“Fuck you.” She spits, and lunges at him. 

She wants to tear him apart, rip his cyber arm off and shove it down his throat. Snap his shin bones and watch him struggle to crawl away from her. But again, she doesn’t even connect and sails right through him, hitting the floor belly first. It feels like a sick joke, that he can wail on her all he likes, but she can’t even touch him. There’s a hard ache in her gut, like she’s been kicked, and he’s there, again, standing over here.

It takes her a second, but she manages to get to her hands and knees and start crawling, leaving a trail of red speckles on the carpet. Just a bit closer to the door; this thing wouldn’t dare try this while she was surrounded by people. She’d be dragged off to some mental hospital, or worse, be picked up by Arasaka if she made a big enough fuss.

She’s halfway across the living room when her front door slides open and in walks Jackie. He’s got a plastic takeout bag in one hand, brushing the rain out of his hair with the other. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees V. 

“Help.” Is all she can manage.

He drops the food and rushes to her. “Fucking hell, V! What happened?!”

She points behind him, where the guy stands with his arms crossed, watching her.

“The chip, the asshole on the chip…” she wheezes. “Can’t get rid of ‘im.”

Jackie whirls, looking for whoever she’s talking about. 

“Ain’t no one there, V. You seeing things again?” He asks urgently.

“Uh huh. ‘Cept I’m not dreaming. He’s here. And hits like a freight train.”

She swallows hard, sitting back and pulling her knees up to her chest, glad to have a moment of rest. He’s still there though, pacing lazily in front of the door, waiting to see what’s gonna happen now that she has backup. 

“Shit, okay.” He says, then looks to her bathroom. “Hold on, Misty gave you some meds to help with this. dame un segundo.” 

He cups her face for a half second before hurrying to the bathroom sink. V hears a few pill bottles rattling as he looks for the right one. The ghost-asshole takes the opportunity to flicker into view, crouched beside her.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m stuck to you like mold on fruit, and there’s nothing I can fucking do about it.”

Then he flickers away again, pacing around the room, raking his hands through his hair, banging his head against the walls.

“Got it!” Jackie calls triumphantly. 

He returns to her on the floor, blue bottle in hand. 

“Omega blockers. Misty said they’d slow things down, keep him quiet for a while.” He explains as he shakes a pill into her open palm.

“Perfect.” She tosses the pill down her throat dry, swallowing it. Her eyes flicker up to her unwelcome guest across the room. He scoffs and takes a couple steps toward her before disappearing.

As soon as the pill hits her stomach, her vision goes blurry again. She can’t see him anymore, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still here somewhere. Instinctively she lays back down on the scratchy carpet of her floor, letting the meds kick in.

“Is it working? Is he gone?” Jackie asks anxiously as he brushes her bangs, slick with blood, out of her face.

She rolls her head left and right. “Think so.” She breathes in relief.

“Good. You hang tight for a sec, I’ll find something for that cut.” He pats her arm and returns to the bathroom, where V heard more rattling and shifting in her medicine cabinet.

“Got a first aid kit, under the sink.” She calls out helpfully.

V closes her eyes again as Jackie works, wiping down her forehead down with tiny antiseptic squares and cleaning the dried blood from the rest of her face. It stings, but she doesn’t complain. It feels good to have someone take care of her for once.

“Don’t think it’ll need stitches.” Jackie comments as he inspects the split in her skin. He sticks a square of gauze over it, tapes it down. He’s no ripperdoc, but he’s patched up his own wounds enough to have the basics down.

“That’s something, at least.” She grumbles, sitting up and touching the bandage gingerly. “Whatcha doing back here by the way? Thought you headed home?”

“Nah,” He shakes his head and gives her a smile. “Just went to get us some grub. You were starting to squirm around, figured you’d be waking up soon and would be pretty hungry.”

“Oh. Wait, were you here all day?”

“Yeah..?” He eyes her, a little confused.

“I mean, it’s fine.” She assures him. “Just didn’t think you’d want to wait around while I was zonked out.”

“Well I got some sleep too.” He explains, packing up her sparse first aid kit. “You were still out cold this morning though. So I watched some tv, called Ma up on the holo to let her know how you were doing, that kinda stuff.” 

V hoists herself up and leans against the back of the couch, arms crossed, rubbing at her elbows.

“Coulda done that stuff at home. You didn’t need to wait around for me, y’know I would’ve let you know when I was up and moving again.” 

He takes a couple meaningful steps toward her, places his hands on the couch either side of here. His smile turns playful.

“Well, I didn’t want to leave my girl by herself either.” He says, sliding one of his hands to her waist “Just in case you needed something.”

“Mm hm.” She hums, nodding in understanding. “I see. And that’s what I am now? Your girl?” 

She says it teasingly, but she means it too. Is he really doing this? Are they really doing this?

“Course.” He says, then looks at her questioningly, his smile dropping some at his doubt. “Unless I really misread things last night? Like really misread them. Thought this was, y’know, what you…?” 

“No,” She exhales. “I want this. You. It’s just…” She drags her hand through her hair, sighing deeply, hesitating. “You sure you wanna do this? After the shitshow you just walked in on? I let you talk me into looking for someone who can help. But right now I’m still technically dying, Jackie, and if we can’t find someone in time…” 

She trails off. There’s no need to say it, they both know how it’d end.

“You’re my best friend. I don’t wanna put you through that.” She says finally, shaking her head.

“You won’t be putting me through anything I didn’t already sign up for. Being a runner ain’t exactly the safest career path.”

“You’re not wrong.” She allows.

Besides, you’ll make it out of this alive.” He says confidently and tugs her closer, his hands on her hips. “You’re too stubborn.”

She has to actually look up at him now and slinks her arms up around his neck. She’s never really thought about it before, but he’s at least a head taller than her, and really solid, muscled. Warm and soft too though, like her own human heater.

“I’m guessin’ that’s a yes, then.” She says with a satisfied smile.

“Guess it is.” He agrees teasingly.

V stretches up on her tiptoes and kisses him. It’s a little different from the night before; she’s a more active participant this time, instead of just hanging onto him. 

Her fingers rake across the back of his neck, her whole body pressed against his. She nips at his bottom lip and he takes that moment to slip his tongue into her mouth. Her pulse pounds in her ears, her knees feel weak. She drops one arm from his neck for a moment to boost herself up onto the back of the couch, feet dangling. His hands shift at her new positioning, sliding up under the hem of her shirt. The feeling of his fingers on her bare skin sends a shiver down her back, and he chuckles, deep in his chest, at the involuntary reaction. This is so much better than last night, she decides.

She hitches one leg at Jackie’s waist, wanting to sink into him, his warmth and gentle touches and hungry lips. His hand trails down the leg and grips her thigh, the other now flush against the skin of her lower back. His mouth leaves hers, and she lets out a little gasp of disappointment before he starts pressing little kisses at the corner of her lips, her jaw, down to her neck. It’s like a trail of fire, buzzing on her skin as he goes.

Then her stomach growls, loudly, and they both pause for a split second.

A snort of laughter bursts out of V, head rolling back as she practically cackles. Jackie stops at her collar bone, snickering, and places one last kiss to her skin before leaning back to survey her. She takes a deep breath, exhales a final laugh at the stupid interruption, and smiles at him knowingly.

“Said you brought food?” She asks, unembarrassed.

Now that she's been awake and moving, it’s hard to ignore how hungry she is. It’s really tempting to keep going, with Jackie looking at her like that, all confidence and adoration. But solid food is more tempting in the moment. Being unconscious for a few days will do that to you.

“Oh, yeah.” He says, remembering the takeout bag by the door. His hands slip from her waist and he goes to retrieve it. “Japanese, from that little old lady in Kabuki. She called you her favorite customer.” He adds.

“She would.” V rolls her eyes, imagining the tiny woman, Yumi, at her cart. 

She always greets her with a big smile, asks what ‘Miss V’ would like today. It’s almost always Yakitori. And then V sits on the stoop beside her cart, chats about what’s been going on in the neighborhood, asks how Yumi’s son is doing, just enjoys the time with her while she has her lunch. It’s funny how much she reminds V of her own mom, comforting. Reminds her of sitting out in the shade, under the heat of the Badlands, and shooting the shit with her clan.

V hops down from her perch on the back of the couch and goes to clear the trash off the coffee table. She’s suddenly conscious of how messy she left it before the heist; figured she’d take care of it afterwards. There almost wasn’t an afterwards, though. She sighs and sweeps the old food wrappers and sticky, empty cans into the trash, along with the reminder of that night.

They settle onto the couch with their food and V flips the channels til she finds something mildly interesting; a documentary on some kind of jellyfish. She’s slouches against Jackie, feet tucked under herself as she shovels wads of noodles into her mouth. Things feel right, normal again. They’ve been close plenty throughout their friendship; on nights when she’d had too much at the bar, and he’d help her stagger back home, or when they’d had to take care of bullet wounds and knife slashes on the job. And V’s always been a touchy person, leaning against someone or resting her head on their shoulder, hugs, all that mushy crap. 

But it’s different now. There’s an… ease to this. No more unspoken tension, at least on her end. No telling when, or if, Jackie ever really considered being with her before last night.

“So,” She says, setting her empty carton down on the table. “Misty tell you how long those pills are supposed to work?”

He shrugs. “Few weeks, months, maybe longer. Vik wasn’t too sure, since you’re the first person he’s seen with your ‘condition’, sabes?”

“Least I got some time to figure this shit out.” She sighs. “No idea where we’re gonna start though.”

“You still have the contact info for that Evelyn chick? She sounded like she had some serious connections.”

“Yeah, doubt she’ll answer though. Dexter thought she ran for the hills as soon as Naboru Arasaka’s murder hit the news.”

Jackie tosses his empty trash onto the table too and settles back, one arm around her shoulders.

“Til he got his brains blown out.” He adds, matter of factly.

V scoffs. “Yeah. Best part of that whole damn mess, watching that bastard get taken out. Made less work for me in the long run too, if I’m bein’ honest.”

“Really would’ve gone out of your way to track him down after the heist?” He asks. 

There’s no judgment in his question, just curiosity. He knows at this point how easily she can employ violence, how it’s always her first and last resort when talking stops working. It’s never seemed to bother him. Plus, she doesn’t leave things unfinished very often. Especially something as personal as the heist had become.

“Woulda tried at least.” She admits, a sudden heaviness in her chest. “Thought I was alone in the world at that point; T-Bug was dead, thought you probably were too. My face was all over Arasaka’s radar after our getaway. I had a bullet hole in my head, was beat to hell and back. I knew that if I made it out of that landfill, I was coming after Dexter for putting me there.”

“Damn.” He says, struck by the intensity of her words.

She lets out a self-conscious chuckle. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get so dark there.”

“S’okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair out of the way and kisses her temple. “Like you said, you went through hell. I would’ve wanted to kill him too.”

They sit in comfortable silence for awhile after that, listening to the narrator on tv go on and on about the recent medical breakthroughs made with the venom of the box jellyfish. V can’t keep her mind off things though. It’s like watching the memories of the past few days on loop, the quick succession of things falling apart at the seams. Things are good now, better than good; but is it really possible that things will all be a-okay at the end of this?

She finally has enough of thinking and stretches, prompting Jackie to lift his arm off her.

“Let’s go somewhere.” She says, standing in front of him, hands on her hips. “A club or something. Night’s still plenty young.”

It’s not really, when she checks the time; well past midnight. But she’s slept all night and day, and doesn’t really want to spend the rest of the night cooped up in her apartment. Even with Jackie there to keep her company. She needs a distraction.

“Alright, if you're feeling up to it.” He agrees. “Meds still working?”

“Far as I can tell. Just need to get out for a bit, y’know? feeling kinda antsy.”

“Cosa segura. Anywhere in particular you wanna go? I don’t have any plans for tomorrow so I’m game for almost anything.”

She thinks a second as she goes to paw through her closet. She’s still wearing the baggy tank top and shorts Vik sent her home in.

“Um, how ‘bout Totentanz? I know it's kind of a drive, but…” She trails off as she inspects the leather jacket in her hand. 

It’s a black and yellow piece, with the logo of one of her favorite bands across the back. She pulls it on over the tank top, then strips off the shorts and chucks them in her bathroom. Most of her laundry is dirty, but she finds a pair of bulky, dark cargo pants at the back of the closet, underneath a shoebox.

“That joint? V, really?” He asks as he watches her hop around a few times to get the pants on. “Feel like I’m gonna step on a used needle every time we go there.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’, Jack.” 

“I’m not saying no!” He puts his hands up defensively. “Just remember that you’re dragging me to Vik’s if I get stabbed in the bathroom or something.”

“Deal.” She says with a smile, and stretches up to kiss him on the cheek. “So, do I look like I was shot in the head a few days ago?” She asks, arms out as she steps back for his inspection.

He looks her up and down. “I mean, yeah. But it adds to the whole ‘take-no-shit vibe’ you give off.” When she doesn’t look impressed, he adds, “It’s hot.” And gives her a crooked grin.

“Better.” She says, and takes his hand, pulling him out the door. 

The anticipation of the blaring music and red strobes of the club are making her chest buzz. She has too much pent up energy; she needs to thrash and scream along to the songs, get shoved around in the pit a few times. Really though, she wants to forget for a while. The chip, and the engram, and the cut on her forehead. The fact that the clock’s ticking away for her as they ride the elevator down to the streets. Just push it all to the back of her brain, pretend that everything’s okay. 

Cause she wants to believe Jackie, she really does. She wants to believe that they’ll make a few calls tomorrow and suddenly she’ll be on her merry way to let someone poke around in her head and pull that thing out. But she can’t. Because if she lets herself get all hopeful and starts making plans for the future and shit, it’s gonna hurt so much worse when they hit the end of their rope with nothing to show for it. 

So she’ll live in the moment now, with her best friend at her side, and pretend.


End file.
